


Remnants of Home

by skinscript (Infie)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Gen, SGA Secret Santa 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 05:46:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infie/pseuds/skinscript
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Sateda, Teyla's thoughts turn to her own lost world and the ruins left there.  Could there be remnants of the Athosian culture waiting to be discovered?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remnants of Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starry_haze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starry_haze/gifts).



Teyla straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath before knocking on the doorframe of John's self-proclaimed 'office'. It did not resemble any of the offices of the other expedition members, lacking a door, windows, and size, but it was where John retreated to when forced to perform reports and other paperwork. "John?"

He looked up distractedly, his hair in even more disarray than usual and his eyes tired. Automatically he smiled, and it changed into one of real pleasure as he realized that she was his visitor. "Teyla!" He shoved his laptop to the side, disregarding the fall of papers from his desktop. She grinned at his enthusiasm for the interruption. 

"I wish to speak with you," she said. "Do you have time?"

John glanced at the various piles of multi-coloured paper surrounding him. "Absolutely," he lied brightly. She tilted her head toward the door and he stood immediately, gesturing her ahead of him.

They walked in comfortable silence for a moment. She debated which way to begin, and ultimately decided on the forthright approach. 

"Our trip to Sateda has affected me," she said. "The destruction of the world was horrible, and I can only imagine how it has hurt Ronon to see it."

John nodded his agreement.

"I was struck by how much remained," she continued. "Although the people are gone, and their civilization struck down, the bones of the Satedan culture are still evident in the ruins, in the artwork and the artifacts which were left behind."

"Yeah," John was frowning slightly as he tried to figure out where she was going with all of this. The little furrow on his forehead made her smile. She drew to a stop and faced him directly.

"I have been consumed of thoughts of my own homeworld. Our fear of the Wraith kept us far from the ruins of our own cities, but John... What have we surrendered by not looking? What parts of our strengths, our weaknesses, our accomplishments and our failures are lost to us? What of our technology, or our art?" The sympathy on his face made her eyes sting. "I wish to return to Athos, to learn what remains of _my_ people."

* * *

"I understand your desire, Teyla," Elizabeth said gently. "But I really think we need to focus right now on our most pressing needs. We need to find ZPMs, and we need to continue to grow our base of support here in Pegasus."

Teyla nodded, smiling sweetly. "And I understand your position, Elizabeth, however I think you underestimate the potential value of this venture."

John watched them, clearly fighting a grin. She shot him a quelling glare. "Right," he said, on cue. "Teyla's done a lot for us. I think we should head back to Athos, check things out there."

Ronon spoke up. "Seems fair to me," he said. "Knowing your people, where you come from, that's important." He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Especially here. _Especially_ now." 

Elizabeth looked down at the table, clearly thinking about Sateda. Ronon's eyes stayed on her, uncompromising, and she sighed. Teyla's heart sank, knowing that while moved, Elizabeth hadn't been swayed.

Help came from an unexpected source. 

"Actually, Teyla makes a good point," Rodney said from his position standing uncomfortably near the door. "We know that Athos contained significant ruins from ten thousand years ago or longer, and that the Athosians had managed to maintain some interesting technology from the destruction of the civilization." He wriggled his fingers descriptively, and Elizabeth nodded at him.

"The firestarters."

"Exactly." Rodney shrugged. "A type of technology that is low level enough that the Wraith were uninterested, but certainly more advanced than anything similar from Earth. The Wraith attack interrupted what minimal investigation we'd started, and we never went back to actually go through the ruins with any diligence. There could be plenty there that we missed."

"A ZPM?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Uh, no." Rodney rubbed his chin. "But we don't know what else there could be. And I'm not going on any away missions for a while." He shifted on his feet, eyeing his usual chair longingly. "Until my ass heals, I'm grounded."

"You'll never not be a pain in the ass, McKay," John told him dryly. Elizabeth hid her laugh behind her hand.

"Oh, ha. _In fact_ ," Rodney continued, beaming. "I think that it would be the perfect outing for you, Elizabeth. You should go too. Exercise the old anthro muscles, yeah?"

Elizabeth's face lit up at the idea. "Really? Wait, well, no, I couldn't possibly..."

Teyla pounced on the opening. "That is a wonderful idea. The city holds so much that you could help me understand."

Elizabeth smiled wryly. "I really can't." When Teyla opened her mouth she held up her hand gently. "But I'm won over. Three days on Athos, daily check-ins. You have a go."

"Thank you," Teyla said gravely, heart soaring. Her hand found its way to John's arm and she gripped it tightly. His fingers slid over hers, and he gave her hand a soft squeeze. She wanted to cheer like one of the Marines. 

They had a go!

* * *

"This is Athos." Ronon looked at the forest surrounding the Ring of the Ancestors. "Nice place."

"It is home," Teyla replied softly. He nodded at her in understanding. John's thoughts were hidden, as ever, behind his sunglasses, but the muscles of his face were as relaxed as she could remember. His shoulders tightened as he looked around though, and she knew that unpleasant memories of the Wraith attack were running through his mind. In that moment she missed Rodney keenly; if anyone could keep John's mind distracted from his dark thoughts it was Rodney. Still, she was not without skills of her own. "Come, Ronon. I am eager to show you more! Perhaps you will learn something that will help you beat me next time we spar."

Ronon laughed and followed her lead up the trail. John trailed them, the tension in his body easing as they joked. 

They reached the fork in the trail leading to her settlement and she passed it without slowing, ignoring the twinge of grief in her chest. One day she would return again and stop there to share her adventures with her dead. She would sing to them of Atlantis, of new friends and unexpected enemies, of battles and of serenity. She would tell them of her life and her team, of John, and she would thank them for their lives and their sacrifice.

But today was for a different purpose. 

She turned her feet towards the ruined city closest to the settlement. "John, do you believe that this is the only city on Athos?"

John took a couple of long steps to come up beside her. "I don't know," he frowned. "We never took a puddle jumper back through here."

"McKay said that the Ancient database didn't have any other bases listed," Ronon said. John glanced at him sideways. "What? I can listen."

"There was a long period between the Ancestors leaving and your arrival. I do not believe that the database can be fully trusted to be accurate. Perhaps the city itself will tell us." They crested the ridge and the achingly familiar lines of the ancient city of Athos spread out before them, the sharp thrust of the top of the Ancient spire softened by time and weather.

John pulled out the life signs detector and checked it. "Just us here," he said. "I don't see any obvious energy signatures." He tucked it back into his vest, lifting his chin defensively when Ronon grinned at him. "I can listen too."

She shook her head at them both. 

"Big place," Ronon observed. "Where do you want to start?"

"I have never entered the city itself," she said, gazing down at the sprawl of buildings and twisted metal that was all that remained of her once-proud civilization. Despair at the size of her task and eagerness to begin warred in her stomach. "I do not know where to begin."

John stepped closer, just enough for her to feel his heat against her shoulder. She appreciated the gesture of support, especially coming from him. "Well," he said slowly. "Generally I find it best to start at the beginning." He gestured to the faint outline of a road leading toward the grey spire and the centre of the city. "Let's start in the middle; that's usually where things began."

Ronon huffed his agreement and set out. "Most likely place to find something that'll convince Elizabeth to have us all come back, too," he said over his shoulder. 

Teyla stopped John with a hand on his arm before he could follow. "I want to say 'thank you'," she told him. "This means a great deal to me."

John patted her hand. "No thanks needed," he said softly, and stepped after Ronon. She looked at their backs for a long moment, gathering her courage, and followed.

The road was thousands of years old, cracked and broken. It looked similar in construction to Atlantis but was clearly a different material. Not created by the Ancestors, then. She smiled and closed her eyes for a moment to feel the surface beneath her feet. Created by _her_ ancestors instead. She tripped over a stone and laughed. 

They passed collapsed buildings, piles of rubble with occasional protruding walls. The mounds grew steadily larger as they worked their way closer to the centre of the city. The construction slowly changed as well, rounded corners and steeply sloped lines giving way to sharper curves and geometric precision. Teyla stooped to run her fingers over the tumbled wall of what seemed to have been an administrative building or perhaps a school. How many Athosians had done the same when the building stood? Had they been tactile or had they preferred to admire from a distance? So much of their past had been lost to the Wraith. Grief pricked at the back of her eyes and she rubbed them irritably.

"It's here," Ronon called from ahead, where the road took an abrupt turn to the right. John offered her a hand back to her feet and an awkward pat on the shoulder.

The top of the spire was much larger than it had appeared from the Athosian hunting camp across the lake. She had thought that perhaps the original city had been a smaller version of Atlantis, but now it appeared that the Ancient city was every bit as large. 

"Wow," John said, craning his neck to look. "That looked a lot shorter from the other side of the lake."

Ronon tried to look unimpressed, but the quirk at the corner of his lips belied his expression. 

"We should be able to enter there." Teyla pointed to a gaping hole in the side of the spire, where what had likely once been an observation balcony was three-quarters buried. 

"Yep." John tugged the strap of his P-90 straighter and turned on the flashlight. "Let's go."

They moved through the crack on the wall with comfortable space on all sides, and stepped into a hallway that could have been found on Atlantis. John glanced around. "Seven levels down from the gateroom," he said briefly. "If this place has a gateroom, that is. With the Athosian gate they may not." He played the flashlight over the walls, then nodded to the left. "The main rooms are that way." 

"Ok," John murmured as they reached the doorway. "Forget what I said outside. _This_ time I mean it. _Wow_."

They stood at the edge of a multi-level gallery. It was airy and spacious, lined with open cabinets. The cabinets had been largely emptied, but there were still artifacts scattered from place to place. The centre of the room was dominated by a statue of an Athosian huntress in full run, bantos rods in her hands. She was cast in some exquisite dark metal.

"Beautiful," Ronon said softly, then glanced at Teyla. "Looks like you."

Teyla laughed in delight. "She's incredible!" Stairs circled the room in wide spiral, and she headed for them immediately. "This is all incredible." The artifacts on the shelves were varied, comprised of figuries, carvings, statuettes, along with tools. 

"This seems to have been some kind of museum," John said, following on her heels. "Seems to go up a few floors." He sighed as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "It's pretty amazing."

"Look." Ronon reached into one of the display cases and withdrew a figurine. He held it out and she took it from him gingerly. John held his P-90 so that she could look at it more clearly in the flashlight. 

"Oh!" She beamed. The figurine was a pale yellow-white, cool in her hands. It was a perfect reproduction of the huntress statue, carved in bone and polished to an incredible smooth sheen. As her fingers slid across the surface she reassessed; this carving was very old. The large statue must be the reproduction.

She passed it reluctantly over to John and moved to the next cabinet, which had a small number of old tools in it. She recognized an awl and something that might have been some form of a chisel or wordworking plane. "I am so glad we came."

John nodded and sighed. "There's too much here for us to go through well, even in three days," he said. "We're going to need to come back."

"Oh, absolutely." Teyla's cheeks hurt from the grin that would not subside. 

"We need to see what else is here; how big the installation is," Ronon pointed to the door at the opposite end of the gallery. "That should head down."

Teyla shot a longing glance at the long gallery but nodded acquiescence. "Let us check."

Ronon led the way. The stairs led to another level, this one apparently used for some form of administration. They continued to the next section, but the door was heavily barred. 

"Blocked off."

John stepped forward to check and tripped over a toppled chair leg, lurching sideways and catching himself against the wall. To Teyla's shock, it lit up.

"It wasn't me," John said automatically, taking a defensive step back from the wall. A heavy rumble came from somewhere deep below them, and the room began to shake.

Ronon demanded, "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" John held up his hands defensively. "I swear!" He scrabbled at his vest and came up with Rodney's modified lifesigns detector. "There aren't any strong energy signatures," he said rapidly, poking at the screen tentatively. "This looks more like the kind of thing I'd see from a puddlejumper." He looked at them. "Good news, Rodney's right and there's no ZPM so we're not likely to get blown to smithereens. Bad news…" The rumble got louder and the floor shifted menacingly under their feet. "Yeah, that's the bad news."

"What is causing it?" Teyla shouted to be heard over the noise. 

John shook his head. "I'm not sure," he bellowed back.

"Whatever it is, think it _off_!" Ronon sounded remarkably like a calmer, deeper-voiced Rodney. He set his back against the barred door to gain the protection of the frame, glaring at the ceiling warily. 

John squinched his eyes closed in concentration. The lights remained stubbornly on and the rumble grew into an outright roar. Teyla backed against the wall defensively. "Perhaps you could think it off more convincingly?" She suggested loadly, through gritted teeth. The floor shook, almost taking her off her feet. She saw the ceiling above John begin to buckle just a moment too late. "John!"

The roof came down in a shower of metal and plaster, knocking John to the ground before he had a chance to do more than open his eyes. A heavy cloud of dust billowed through the room, obscuring him and everything else. 

The lights went out. The rumble ceased.

"John!" Teyla scrambled to his prone body, tripping in her haste. Ronon beat her there. He raised his hands and visibly took a deep breath to calm himself before running his hands over John's arms and legs. Teyla placed her hand on the centre of his back.

"He's breathing," Teyla reported, relieved. 

"Broken arm," Ronon replied tersely. "No blood, but a good knock on the head."

Teyla stroked a hand through his hair. "John?"

His eyelids fluttered and he groaned. "Present," he muttered, raising a hand to his head and wincing when he tried to move the broken arm. "What happened?"

"The ceiling fell on you," Ronon told him.

Teyla examined his pupils apprehensively. "Can you move? Should we contact Atlantis for assistance?"

"Yeah, I can move." He sat up, cradling his broken arm against his chest. Ronon shrugged out of his coat and stripped off his shirt to make a sling. "Better head back though."

"Rodney will be so upset," Teyla offered with a slight smile. "Normally he gets to be the one to upbraid you for touching things you should not."

John huffed agreement as Ronon set his hands in the shoulder straps of his vest and hauled him bodily to his feet. "I'm never going to hear the end of it."

They headed back up the stairs, John leaning heavily on Ronon's arm. His face was pale and he was sweating with pain. The trip across the gallery and up the spiral staircase seemed to take forever. They had just reached the hallway with the rupture in the wall when Teyla felt a familiar tickle at the base of her neck.

She froze, hoping to be wrong, but a moment later a distinctive whine reverberated through the hallway. "Oh, no," Teyla felt her eyes widen. "Wraith!"

An explosion rocked the hallway and dirt and debris sprayed inside. Ronon shielded John with his body.

"Trapped," he said succinctly, drawing his gun with his free hand. 

John's fingers were clenched on the stock of the P-90. "Up," he gritted out. "We need to go up."

They stumbled through the hallway and took the stairs upwards at a staggering run. "How far?" Ronon demanded, hauling John along by a fist locked around the back of his vest and keeping him upright through what seemed to be sheer force of will.

"Six flights," John gasped. "Gateroom."

"Right." Ronon bared his teeth and hauled him faster.

Teyla faced down the staircase, taking the steps backwards. The first Wraith appeared at the doorway and she riddled it with bullets. "We must hurry!" 

"Hurrying," John gasped back. Ronon saved his breath. 

It took what seemed like forever to reach the level where Atlantis would have a gate room. They spilled into the room and Ronon laughed out loud to see the gate standing so invitingly. Teyla stayed at the door to cover them, shooting methodically as the Wraith began to appear at the end of the hallway. 

John pulled free from Ronon's support and sprinted up the steps to the dialling computer. He slapped his hand down on it with authority.

Nothing happened. 

He did it again, face a mask of concentration.

Nothing.

"Damn it! No power."

"No ZPM," Ronon reminded him from his position beside Teyla. His gun fired with its deep whine.

"McKay sucks." John's eyes narrowed in thought. 

Teyla felt a burst of hope. "What are you thinking?"

"We need to keep going up." John made his way back down the stairs a lot more gingerly than he'd gone up them. "Jumper bay is above us. Might have a ship."

"Good plan." Ronon grabbed the back of his vest again, ignoring John's protests. "Let's go."

The time in the gateroom had allowed the Wraith to regroup and the trip upstairs to the jumper bay was a running fight. It was a miracle they managed to avoid further injury, though the pursuing Wraith were not so fortunate. 

The bay itself was almost empty, only two jumpers remaining. John placed his hand on the first and cursed when it did not respond. The final jumper gave a grumble like a cranky child waking up and opened.

"Awesome." John pulled himself into the pilot's seat. The sound he made when he placed his injured hand on the control made Teyla's heart hurt. The jumper responded unevenly but it did rise. "No power to the gate, no power to the jumper hatch," John said. "We're going to need to go through the wall. The look he gave her was anguished. "I'm sorry."

Teyla gave him a reassuring nod. The first Wraith blast splashed against the wall beside them. "I understand. Go!"

John twitched and the jumper lurched forward. The shield sparked into place just before they hit the wall and they were all thrown sideways, but a moment later they were through.

Three darts raced into view, shooting. John skipped the jumper sideways and the shots missed them, landing squarely in the hole they left behind. 

The spire exploded.

"Oh, no." Ronon leaned forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. 

Teyla watched the destruction of the gallery with horror. 

"We need to go," John's face had gone blank, hiding whatever he was feeling behind his soldier's mask. He turned the jumper for the gate. "Get ready to dial."

Teyla punched the keys as soon as the Athosian gate came into view, and the wormhole rippled into place withgratifying speed. "Atlantis, this is Teyla," she said clearly. "Coming in hot, with darts in pursuit."

"Roger, Teyla," Elizabeth's voice responded immediately. "We're ready for you."

The wormhole welcomed them home.

\--------

Her door chimed softly.

Teyla's eyes opened and she blinked slowly, letting her awareness return to the here and now. The candles she had distributed before beginning her meditation flickered softly from their perches around her room, filling it with gentle light. 

The door chimed again and Teyla rose, taking a moment to stretch before stepping over and pressing her hand to the cool panel on the wall.

John stood on the other side, dressed in a loose white shirt and his usual black pants. His injury was protected by a heavy black sling. His face was pale but his eyes brightened when he saw her.

"I was wondering if you were even here," he said.

"I am." She smiled and stepped back, waving him inside. "I am happy to see you looking so well. I see that Doctor Beckett released you early."

He waved his free hand carelessly. "I was persuasive," he said.

She coughed lightly.

"Ok," he admitted, "I was annoying."

She laughed. "Clearly a valuable skill."

"It's served me well." 

"Please, John, sit." Teyla suited action to words, gesturing at the end of her bed. He sat gingerly.

"I have something for you," he began, then shrugged and reached into his sling. "I.. uh. Took it. From the art gallery, before the tremors started." 

He drew out the figurine of the huntress. The candles' glow danced over the smooth bone, tracing each curve in gold and shadow.

Her breath left her in a rush. "Oh," she reached out, fingers trembling, to touch. It was warm from John's body heat, and she stroked a finger over it reverently.

John was watching her closely, with an expression on his face that she hadn't seen before. He coughed a little. "I'm glad I was able to give her to you," he said.

She gathered the carving to her chest. "Thank you," she choked out, then reached over and grabbed him into a hug. He reacted with his usual awkward discomfiture, but she refused to let him go and eventually his body relaxed into hers. She tucked her face into his neck and breathed deep. "Thank you."

They sat that way for a time, until John made a pained noise and pulled away slowly. "You deserve a part of your home," he told her firmly, curling her fingers more tightly around the huntress with his own. 

"Home is with family," she replied, keeping his hand in hers when he would have released her. " _This_ is my home."

\- 30 -


End file.
